Like Maple Leaves on Snow
by Star-Tigress
Summary: Matthew lived his life unnoticed and unloved, an invisible nobody, until an "awesome" new student from Prussia steps into his life and makes his presence know to the world.   Prussia and Canada. An angsty High School AU. Rated T for self-harm and swearing
1. Chapter 1 Just Leave Me Alone

**A/N-**_Woo! Second fanfiction! This is my first shot at an angsty fanfiction and to be honest I am pretty proud of it. I will probably not update this as often as my other Fanfiction: Visible (Russia x Canada) as there will be no fixed update date, but I will probably put a new chapter up every two weeks as I enjoyed writing this chapter. _

_I'm still not sure if I should make this a romance but I'm seriously considering it._

_Please review and tell me what you think ^w^ _

Chapter 1- Just leave me alone!

Matthew Williams trudged to school miserably. He had had a terrible day so far and he wasn't expecting it to get any better any time soon. Since he had woken up he had fallen down the stairs after being walked into by his mother, been shouted at by his father who had mistaken him for his brother (who wasn't even staying in the house that night and was instead staying the night at a friend's house), had his name forgotten 7 times and had been ignored 11 times. He had only been awake for an hour. He sighed. Sometimes he wondered if his family would even notice if he were to drop dead right in from of them.

In the distance Matthew heard the warning bell for classes go but he didn't bother to hurry up. The teachers never noticed when he walked in late.

When Matthew had first started at high school he had tried to make a good impression. He had promised himself when he finished middle school that his high school years would be different. He wouldn't be ignored, he would make friends and he would be noticed by the teachers.

Four months into his freshman year he had yet to make a single friend. Heck, no one had even bothered to remember his name, not even the teachers who's _job_ it was to pay attention to kids. It wasn't as if he had done anything to deter people from him he was just easily forgotten. He tried his hardest, got all his work done and tried to speak to people, but for all his effort they just ignored him.

Two months after term started Matthew had realized that no-one, _**no-one, **_would ever notice him, he may as well be a ghost. After realizing this Matthew began to get more and more depressed. His grades dropped in all his subjects except for Art and English and he had just stopped trying to get to school on time. He had waited for some kind of letter home about his behaviour, wanting someone to worry about him for once but no letter came and no-one noticed his steadily worsening depression.

Finally Matthew's condition got so bad that he started self-harming. At first he had just scratched at himself but once he realized how good it felt, he took a blade to his wrists. Cutting became a regular thing for Matthew, whenever he got home from school he would run the razor down his arm. He didn't enjoy the actual action but he felt so much better afterwards, having released the hatred he felt for his invisible self, the frustration at always being ignored and the sad ache in his heart that threatened to engulf him every time someone forgot his name.

His arms were a latticework of very obvious white scars. Were someone to draw up the sleeve of the red hoodie Matthew always wore, they would see instantly the pain he had been feeling, but no-one had bothered, so no-one knew.

Snapped back to the present by the sound of the final bell going, Matthew quickened his pace. He may as well make an effort for once, especially since he had Art first period, his favourite subject. He was good at art, and his teacher was nice enough, letting the class chat while they worked and allowing students to work on individual projects if they finished what they were supposed to do that lesson.

Matthew reached the school and headed up to the third floor, where his Art room was. He eased the door open and stepped inside. He had just come into class ten minutes late but no one had even looked up from their conversations. Strangely enough, even though it was ten minutes into the lesson the teacher still hadn't entered the class.

Matthew looked around at his classmates as he took his seat and noticed that he was not the only one worried about the absence of their teacher. Several people wore anxious frowns while other's couldn't care less.

Just then the classroom door banged open and in walked their very flustered looking teacher. Walking behind her was a strange looking teen with a casual grin on his face.

The teen had silver hair and wore a baggy grey t-shirt with tight black jeans but the most striking thing about him by far, were his eyes. They were bright red.

The boy turned to Matthew and gave him a smile and Matthew realized he must have been staring. He felt an embarrassed blush spread across his face and he tried to smile back but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Sorry I'm late class," Matthew was jerked back to his senses by the sound of his teacher's voice, "The principle needed to talk to me, he wanted me to pick up your new classmate for you and to introduce him to you." A murmur spread through the students at the words 'new classmate'.

"Right, so this boy here," She gestured to the teen behind her, "Is your new classmate, Gilbert Beilschmidt, and he and his brother recently transferred here from Germany. Now I want you all to be nice to Gilbert and to treat him well. Gilbert, do you have anything to say to the class?"

"Okay then." Grinned Gilbert, before turning to the class. "Okay you lot, listen up. My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt and I am awesome. If you can all remember that then I'm sure that we can get along just fine."

Matthew rolled his eyes. This guy sounded as egotistical as his brother, who went around claiming that he was 'the hero' to anyone who would listen.

"Um... very nice?" Said the teacher uncertainly, not sure what to make of Gilbert's rude words, "Anyway, I guess you should choose somewhere to sit now... How about over there?" She said pointing to Matthew.

"There's someone sitting there." Replied Gilbert bluntly, unimpressed at the teacher's stupidity as Matthew stared into the corner of the room sadly, upset about being overlooked by his art teacher.

"There is? Oh... so there is... sorry um...?"

"Matthew." supplied Matthew in a monotone.

"R-right, Matthew, sorry about that. Anyway Gilbert, you can sit in the chair next to... him." Continued the teacher forgetting Matthew's name in seconds. Gilbert nodded curtly in response and went to sit in his seat.

Matthew sat still in his seat as the teacher went on with the lesson, demonstrating how to draw certain aspects of a face while the class looked on. When she had finished her demonstration the teacher handed out pieces of paper on which to practise drawing on. Matthew absentmindedly doodled on his, drawing several maple leaves and a polar bear. After a while he stopped. Why was he even in this lesson, it wasn't as if anyone took notice of his work. Yes, he was good at art but did he ever get any recognition for it? No.

With a sigh he placed his pencil down on the paper and but his face in his hands. Unaware of the red eyes watching him he let a few tears fall from his eyes.

Gilbert stared at Matthew in shock. He was crying. Right there. In the middle of class. And what made it worse was that no-one was paying any attention, why in his old school if someone was crying practically the whole class crowded round to try and find out what was wrong but here no-one seemed to care. Yeah, a whole class of nosey teens could be annoying when you would rather be left alone but at least it showed they _cared_. No-one seemed to notice this kid at all, even the teacher didn't see him earlier ans she was looking right at him. Maybe he was new or something but still that was no excuse to downright ignore him.

Gilbert smiled to himself. He would be awesome and comfort the crying boy. Cautiously Gilbert reached out his hand and placed it on Matthew's shoulder. Matthew jumped at the sudden contact and looked up at Gilbert with wide eyes, wiping away his tears hurriedly. If he hadn't been crying, Gilbert would have laughed at the kid's jumpy reaction. Instead he stared intently at the smaller boy. "Why are you crying?" He asked.

"W-well I-"

"It's not awesome."

There was an awkward silence in which the two boys stared at each other, Gilbert with a blank, serious expression, Matthew with a sorrowful, pained one. Eventually it was Matthew who broke the stare, looking back down to his paper, he picked up a pencil and tried to continue his work, Gilbert however, had other ideas.

"Hey, don't ignore me! I'm too awesome to be ignored, I asked you a question." He snapped, trying to steal the other boy's pencil.

As Matthew continued to ignore him Gilbert got more and more pissed. "I asked you a question! Why were you crying?" he cried as he finally succeeded in snatching his pencil off him.

Matthew glared up him angrily as tears filled his eyes. "What do you care?" he demanded, "You've probably forgotten my name as well! Just like everyone else!"

Just then the bell rung, signalling the end of the period. Quickly, Matthew gathered up his things and ran out the door.

Gilbert stared after the boy in dismay but it wasn't the boy's sudden exit that was troubling, it was the fact that he couldn't for the life of him remember what his name was even though he was sure he had been told it. Was this what it was like for him? Did everyone forget or ignore him?

Shaking his head to clear it of depressing thoughts Gilbert gathered up his things and looked at his timetable for his next class. English. Dammit, he hated English.

Groaning, Gilbert set off along the halls to his next class.

Matthew didn't attend his next class... or the one after that... or the one after that. Instead he sprinted down the empty corridors and out the door. He didn't stop running until he was far away from the school and his lungs were bursting from lack of air. Finally he collapsed on the ground and put his head in his hands, sobbing and trembling.

Someone had noticed him cry. They had tried to comfort him but... he had run away because he was afraid to get his hopes up, just to have them dashed. He didn't want to feel that pain. The only person who only ever noticed him was his brother Alfred and even then it was only every now and then. Gilbert was probably only being polite by being nice to him and had already forgotten about him.

Matthew stayed there for what felt like hours, crying and shaking until he eventually stood up and walked back home. His parents wouldn't be home for a few more hours so he had the house to himself. He padded up to his bedroom and took out a small box.

Inside the box was a razor.

It was the end of the school day and Gilbert was yet to see the boy again. He had asked around his classes but no-one seemed to know who he was, the only person that had fitted the description was some kid named Alfred who _definitely_ wasn't him though they looked very similar.

Gilbert had had a good day at school. He had made two new friends called Francis and Antonio and they got along like a house on fire. Teachers already suspected them as the new troublemakers. Francis was tall and blonde and French with blue eyes and was a terrible pervert or "Master of love" as he liked to call himself. Antonio who was Spanish and also tall, was one of the nicest people you could ever meet, with tanned skin, brown hair and green eyes. He was also gay and currently in love with a grumpy Italian named Lovino.

Gilbert grinned as Francis cracked a joke and Antonio laughed. They were currently walking home and though he was smiling and happy, he couldn't get the thought of the boy from Art out of his head.

Who the hell was he?

They rounded the corner and reached the street where their paths split.

"Well I'll see you guys tomorrow yeah?" Said Gilbert, "Unless..."

"Unless?" Asked Antonio giving Gilbert a look.

"Well my dad is having this big barbecue party thing to get to know the neighbours since we're new and stuff and I was wondering if you guys might want to come?"

"Mon ami, That would be simply splendid~" purred Francis with a smile.

"Si, sounds fun!" Grinned Antonio.

"Great!" shouted Gilbert beaming. "So I'll see you there?" he asked.

"Yeah!"

"I never miss a party."

"That's great, so this is my address," Gilbert said, writing it down on a spare piece of paper. "Part starts at six, be there." and with a smile he was off, jogging down the street.

Antonio and Francis exchanged amused looks and set off in the direction of their own houses.

When Gilbert stepped into his house he was immediately bowled over by an auburn haired boy who had decided to glomp him as soon as he stepped through the door.

"Ve~ You must be Gilbert, Ludwig told me about you~ your hair is cool, do you like pasta? I like pasta it's nice with tomatoes but Lovi says I shouldn't eat them 'cus his stalker likes them too much but I know he likes tomatoes as well and he isn't being stalked, well he is but he doesn't mind it but don't tell him I said that because he'll hit me, Ludwig has never had pasta before can you believe that? Ludwig invited me over for the party tonight and Papa and Lovi are coming as well, Ludwig is so nice he gave me some of his food at lunch, it wasn't as good as pasta but it was still really nice and-"

Gilbert stared in amazement at hyperactive boy clinging to his waist, marvelling at his ability continue talking without taking a breath. By the sound his accent he was Italian and he had auburn hair with a single curl sticking out at the side and golden eyes. After two minutes of the Italian boy speaking non-stop it became apparent to Gilbert that he was neither going to let go or stop for air, so he shuffled towards his brother's bedroom door, the Italian still clinging to his waist.

"Ludwig!" he called, "Does this belong to you?" he asked, pointing to the boy who _still_ hadn't stopped.

"Feliciano! There you are!" Exclaimed his brother as he stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him.

The Italian's face lit up when he saw Gilbert's brother step out of his room.

"Ve~ Ludwig~" He cried, letting go off Gilbert and hugging Ludwig instead.

"You shouldn't hug people like that," Scolded Ludwig, "You might freak them out."

"Ve~ I'm sorry Ludwig..."

Gilbert, glad to be able to breathe again watched the unlikely pair in amusement. A short hyperactive Italian and a tall, muscley German. The two had probably only know each other for a couple of hours and already they were acting like they had been best friends for years.

"So you invited someone to the party huh?" he asked smiling fondly at his younger brother.

"Wuh? Oh, yes, yes I did."

"You guys are going to have lots of _fun_ tonight, aren't you~" grinned Gilbert, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, enjoying teasing his brother.

"Gilbert!" Said Ludwig blushing, completely getting what his brother was trying to say.

"Yes we are! I'm going to show Ludwig how to make pasta~" cooed Feliciano, not getting it at all.

Gilbert burst out laughing at this. "Good for you kid, its a skill he needs to learn." he laughed, ruffling Feliciano's hair before rushing off upstairs.

"Ve~" mumbled the Italian happily.

"Oh, by the way, I invited some of my friends as well." Gilbert called to his brother as he climbed the stairs. "They're names are Francis and Antonio, remember them!"

As he walked away from the duo, he was sure he hear Feliciano say "Antonio is Lovi's stalker~" Before he closed the door to his room.

Matthew was asleep when his Brother got home from school. His newly bandaged wrists were still stinging when he woke up after hearing the door bang shut.

He yawned and stretched before putting on his hoodie and wandering downstairs.

"Hey Alfred, how was the sleepover?" He asked as soon as he saw his brother in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich.

"It was great and it wasn't a sleepover, sleepovers are for girls." His brother replied, pouting.

"Then what was it?"

Alfred thought for a moment, "It was... uh... A party for heroes!"

"If you insist..." Shrugged Matthew, not in the mood for an argument.

There was a silence, only broken by the sound of Alfred munching his sandwich. The silence was broken when Alfred finished eating his food. "I didn't see you in school today bro, are you sick or something?"

Matthew tensed and looked over at his brother to see if he suspected anything, but there was nothing but innocence in his brother's blue eyes. "No... I guess you just didn't see me..." He replied hesitantly.

"M'okay." Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. His brother hadn't noticed.

"By the way," Alfred went on, "There are some new people on our street and they're having a party to get to know everyone and we're invited! Isn't that awesome?"

"Mmm..." The small blonde nodded in agreement, though really he would have preferred to stay home.

"Okay well get ready 'cus Mom and Dad phoned me earlier to say they're meeting us there in like ten minutes or something..."

"Okay then Alfred..." sighed Matthew before tuning and heading upstairs to change into a cleaner hoodie, with longer sleeves to hide the bandages on his wrists. He stumbled down the stairs and slipped his shoes on.

"'Kay Al, lets go." He called to his brother and stood by the door patiently.

"Coming!" replied Alfred and Matthew watched as the human whirlwind that was his brother stormed down the stairs, trying to eat a cookie and put on his brown bomber jacket at the same time. As he swung his jacket over his shoulders Alfred tripped over his feet and unable to stop himself crashed into the front door.

"...ow..." he mumbled, picking himself up and rubbing his head and Matthew smiled.

"Ah- I meant to do that!" exclaimed Alfred seeing the amused look his brother was giving him.

"Course you did Al." Smirked Matthew, opening the door and slipping out.

"Hey, I did!" Alfred shouted, dashing after Matthew and the two argued playfully until they reached the house where the party was to be held.

"So who is it who's hosting this thing anyway?" Matthew asked his brother as they approached the house.

"The Beilschmidt's." He replied simply and rung the doorbell.

Beilschmidt... Why did that sound so familiar? Thought Matthew as the door was yanked open by an all too familiar albino.

**A/N- **_So what did you think? Please review and tell me what you think 3_

_Also, I'm not too sure about the title; "Like Maple leaves on Snow" It's supposed to be comparing maple leaves on snow to blood on skin, but I dunno, what do you think? If you come up with some other suggestions please tell me 'cause I'm terrible at titles. M'kay? Thanks guys~_

_~Tigress_


	2. Chapter 2 Let Me Go

**A/N-**_ Gah! I'm sorry I took so long! I've been neglecting this story so much and I got writers block about two thousand words in and left it alone for months ;w; I'm sorry guys, I don't normally take this long, I promise~ _

_Also, 12 REVIEWS ON THE FIRST CHAPTER? WOAH! You guys are AWESOME! I love you all. ;u; _

_Also, I forgot to put a disclaimer on the last chapter... Woops ^^; I don't own Hetalia and I don't really want to because things you did yourself are never as interesting as things other people did... I wish I could draw that well though..._

_Now, without further ado, here is the chapter~_

_Warning: Uncensored swears. This is a warning and you have been warned._

Chapter 2- Let Me Go

"You!" gasped Gilbert in surprise as he stared down at the smaller of the two blondes on his doorstep. Instantly the boy tensed and looked up at the German boy with wide eyes, while his brother looked from one to the other, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Huh? You two know each other or something?" he asked, clearly confused. When neither one of them answered, Alfred waved a hand in front of Matthews face.

"Mattie~ Anybody in there?" he, unable to read the mood if it hit him with a stick but it had the desired affect and Matthew quickly snapped out of his trance.

"O-oh, um sorry Al... listen, I... I don't feel so good, so if it's alright with you, I'm going to head back home."

"Really?" Alfred asked, placing a hand on his brothers forehead. "Well, I guess if you're sure... be sure to take some medicine or something when you get back, I'll tell Mom and Dad." And with that, he slipped past Gilbert and within seconds got into the swing of the party.

Matthew sighed at his brother's lack of concern and turned to leave but Gilbert, however, had other ideas. "What? No!" he exclaimed reaching out for the retreating boy. Matthew quickened his pace and Gilbert gave chase, instantly catching up with him. "Listen kid, I don't know where the hell you went after art but I looked everywhere for you and couldn't find you, so I'm not about to let you go now!" he said exasperated. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" Gilbert shouted and when the boy didn't respond he reached out to stop him, grabbing onto his wrist. Instantly, Matthew cried out in pain and whipped round to face the taller teen, who didn't let go.

"L-let go!" Matthew gasped, trying to wriggle free as tears pricked his eyes.

"That worked." grinned Gilbert, oblivious to the younger teens' pain.

"J-just let go!" Matthew screeched (by his standards) as the tears he could feel threatened to overflow.

"I don't see why I should." Gilbert said coolly but inside he was getting anxious. Matthew was reacting a little too badly to this.

"Y-you're hurting me! G-get off!"

"Nonsense, I'm hardly touching you."

"Just get off!"

"Oh fine." he said, releasing Matthews' arm. As soon as he was free, Matthew pulled his arm into his chest and held it protectively, his stance cautious, watching Gilbert as an antelope would a lion.

Gilbert stared at the boy in puzzlement. Yes, he was strong, but not strong enough to cause something like that without trying, so why had he reacted like that?

After a few second of examination, the albino felt that an apology was in order so he carefully offered a hand to the blonde, trying not to frighten him.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to hurt you if I did, it wasn't awesome of me." When Matthew only stared cautiously at the hand offered, Gilbert continued. "I feel we haven't been properly introduced, so my name's Gilbert the awesome. Don't forget it."

Matthew stared at his hand for a moment longer and he was about to withdraw it when, carefully, as if expecting the albino man to hit him, Matthew tentatively took the man's much larger hand in his own petite one.

"I-I'm Matthew," he mumbled, "And it's fine if you forget my name. S-sorry about earlier... I guess I overacted?" Matthew knew he was stepping onto a minefield by interacting with this boy. One wrong move could have his life spiralling into turmoil, but at the same time he couldn't just turn and run away now that he had been cornered. Oh how he wished he had just stayed home, but it was too late for that now he thought to himself as the albino boy opened his mouth to speak.

"Sweet, and its no problem, though I guess it's more my fault for grabbing you in the first place."

Matthew smiled a little at his words. It seemed that Gilbert didn't suspect anything but his relief was short lived and the worries came back at his next words.

"So how about we go back to the party yeah?"

Matthew sighed inwardly. This was going to be a long night.

xXx

Matthew crouched alone on the floor of the Beilschmidt's bathroom floor and carefully rolled up his hoodie sleeve so as not to disturb the already broken flesh. He gently pulled back the bandage and winced as the blood tried to keep the bandage in place. Once the gauze had been fully removed, Matthew stared in dismay at the damage done. 'God_ dammit_ Gilbert.' He thought to himself as he stared down at the broken skin.

After Gilbert had caught up with Matthew he had dragged him back to the party, by holding onto his wrists. He had only touched them lightly but it was enough to make Matthew wince in pain, though he tried not to show it. Once back at the party he had quickly ditched Gilbert and now here he sat, on the bathroom floor, examining his bleeding wrists with a grim expression.

With a sigh he realized he would have to find some new bandages somewhere as his old ones were rendered useless. It would be impolite to just take some but he couldn't afford for his secret to get out. At the same time he also couldn't just leave his wrists like that, they might get infected and that would be _very_ bad.

Slowly, Matthew got up from his seat on the floor and went over to the cupboards lining the walls. Opening the first one, Matthew found various medicines but nothing to help his bleeding wrists. He looked through all the cupboards one by one but the only thing that he could find that would help in the slightest were some band aids.

Oh well, better than nothing. Matthew peeled the protective wrapping off the first band aid and placed it gently on one of his cuts. He then did the same with four others. Just as he was putting the last one in place a loud banging erupted from the door. "Whoever you are, open up, you've been in there for ages and the awesome me really needs to go!"

Matthew wrinkled his nose in annoyance at the loud voice of his new 'friend.' He was really beginning to get on his nerves.

Carelessly, Matthew scooped up the bloody bandages from the floor and dropped them in the bin. He then rolled down the sleeves of his hoodie and stepped out the bathroom door, shooting Gilbert a glare as he went.

_'Geez, what's his problem?' _Thought Gilbert to himself as he entered the room to relieve himself.

Gilbert flushed the toilet and grinned. _Gott_ he had needed that. He washed his hands and was about to step back into the throng of the party when he noticed a small patch of red on the white floor. Kneeling down to examine it closer, Gilbert realized with a jolt that it was blood. _Fresh _blood. As in less than a minute ago.

Hurriedly, he thought back to who had been in the bathroom before him. Blonde hair, violet eyes, red hoodie- _Matthew? _Matthew had been bleeding?

Thinking back to earlier, when he had caught the boy by his wrists, Gilbert realized how badly he had reacted, and mentally kicked himself for not paying attention earlier. It was clear that he was hurting and he had probably gone and made it worse. '_Gilbert, that was **not** awesome'_ He chided himself mentally. Then another thought struck him. Matthew had flinched when he touched his _wrists._ Did that mean? No, it couldn't be... There was _no way_ Matthew was an emo... was there? No. He decided. It couldn't be, he had probably just been scratched by a cat, or cut himself accidentally while cooking. Yes. That had to be it. And so, after cleaning up the blood, Gilbert did his best to push the thoughts out of his mind and rejoined the party.

xXx

Matthew sat in a corner of the Beilschmidt's garden and watched the party goes silently. He knew there was no point in attempting to join in. He would just be ignored. It was with sad eyes that he watched them, happily chatting, dancing and eating barbecue food. He wished that he could fit in with them but he knew it was a pointless wish. He had tried time and time again to be noticed and happy but always he was ignored and he just couldn't take the rejection any more. It seemed that he was the only one sitting out, the only one unnoticed, and the only one not having fun. Even Gilbert's stoic-faced father seemed to have found a friend in the grandfather of the Italian twins, Feliciano and Romano. Yes. He was the only one left alone, and that was how he would always be.

With a sigh, Matthew leaned back on his chair and stared up at the darken sky absent-mindedly. Why didn't he just go home? Oh yeah- because every time he tried to sneak away a certain albino stopped him. Why did he even bother? He just blocked his way then went off to hang around with Francis and Antonio, not bothering to talk to him again.

He sighed again and leaned back on his chair. He just wanted to go home, plus the band-aids on his wrists were really beginning to itch...

Suddenly a loud call of "MAKE WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" interrupted Matthews' thoughts and he snapped his head down from the sky to see his brother sprinting through the crowds, a grin on his face and his father following quite some way behind, a furious expression on his face.

"Alfred, you get back here **this minute!**" he screamed, red in the face and fuming. His calls were only met with laughter, as Alfred easily parted the crowd and hid behind his friends, leaving his father standing in the middle of the garden, turning his head from side to side, desperately searching for a sign of the loud-mouthed blond.

Matthew shook his head in exasperation, wondering what it was his brother had done now. He turned his head back to the sky and returned to his daydreams, Alfred's problems almost forgotten, when out of nowhere, a large hand gripped his shoulder.

"There you are, Alfred." said a familiar icy voice- the voice of his father. Matthew froze. "I think that we are going to leave this party, and we are going to have a long talk about what you were doing."

"I-I'm not Alfred..." Matthew stuttered out, looking up at his father in dismay.

"Sure~ You're not." his father said in a sarcastic tone, his grip on Matthews' shoulder tightening ever so slightly. Matthew opened his mouth to speak again but before he could say anything his father continued. "I know that's you Alfred, now get up. We're going home."

Matthew stared at the ground in humiliation as his father frogmarched him away from the party. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the _real_ Alfred mouth the words '_go along with it_' before he was whisked away from the scene by a fuming father.

xXx

Gilbert stared open mouthed as the awkward scene unfolded. Didn't his father _realize_ that this was Matthew not Alfred? And by the look of it Alfred just didn't care and was simply playing along with it and for some reason it made Gilbert angry. Without a second thought, the silver haired albino walked up to Alfred and turned him around.

"Why the hell are you not owning up?" He asked furiously, jabbing a finger in his face. "He's done nothing wrong and you're just letting him take the blame. Not awesome man, not awesome." he said with a glare, making Alfred shift from one foot to the other uneasily.

"He doesn't mind." He said, looking away from the German's accusing stare.

"Oh really?" Gilbert asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "Because I think that if I I got in trouble for something I didn't do because my parents couldn't remember _who I fucking was_ I would be feeling pretty shit, wouldn't you?"

Alfred said nothing but looked very uncomfortable under the other teen's gaze. "But Dad's really scary when he's angry..." he mumbled pathetically, not looking Gilbert in the eyes. A _good _idea since they were at that moment filled with unimaginable fury.

"So what- you just let your brother take all the blame? Why the fuck did you even do whatever the fuck you did if you didn't want to get in trouble? Mein _Gott,_ you're pathetic!" he shouted, spit spraying into the other boy's face. Alfred opened his mouth to answer back but Gilbert was already leaving, flouncing off in a huff. He walked through the crowds angrily, not caring if he pushed people over and stepped onto the darkened street. In the distance he saw Matthew and his father turn into what he assumed was their house, their forms silhouetted against the orange glow of the street lights.

Gilbert frowned. Matthew had been taken away from his party after all his work to keep him there for something that he _didn't do_. It was all Alfred's fault. He had a good mind to go over there and explain the situation to Matthews' father himself. In fact, that was what he _would_ do, he decided and without a second thought Gilbert marched down the street.

When he turned into their drive, Gilbert was surprised to see that the door had been left open and from inside he could hear the two's conversation clearly. He contemplated just storming in and making his point but soon curiosity got the better of him and Gilbert crouched by the doorframe, listening in.

xXx

Matthew sat on the sofa, his head bent forward and his knees clasped on his lap. His father paced in front of him, a furious expression on his face.

"Well Alfred, I suppose you know why you're here?"

"No, not really... I'm not Alfred." he said miserably, looking down at his hands.

"Don't lie to me Alfred, I know it was you who was slipping those guys weed, don't try to deny it." Matthew froze. It was something as serious as that? "I don't know where you got it or what on _earth_ you thought you were doing hand them out but you are in _deep trouble._" His father hissed through clenched teeth, glaring down at the boy before him.

"B-but I'm not Alfred..." he mumbled, staring down at his clenched hands. "I'm Matthew..."

His father snorted. "Don't lie to me Alfred, I don't know any Matthews." He said it nonchalantly but Matthew gasped as his words pierced his heart and Gilbert, listening at the door gaped. Did his own father not even remember his existence?

Matthew stared up at his father with tear filled eyes. Why did no one remember him? Why? Had he done anything wrong? What did he deserve to do this neglect? Suddenly something inside him snapped and Matthew stood up abruptly, tears in his eyes.

"So that's how it is." he muttered darkly before walking briskly to the door, but his father was having none of it.

"Alfred get back here _this instant!_" He yelled, his face turning an unnatural shade of puce. Matthew took one look at his father, his eyes filled with hurt before a sob escaped his lips and he ran out the room, into the hall and out the front door, nearly tripping over Gilbert. For a moment their gazes locked and watery violet eyes stared into shocked carmine ones. In an instant, Matthew felt his cheeks heat up as he realized that the albino had probably heard the whole argument. He felt the tears overflow and quickly he turned his head away and continued running down the street, his footfalls echoing off the silent buildings. Behind him he could hear Gilbert calling after him but he wasn't listening. Adrenaline took over and before he knew it Matthew could feel was the blood rushing in his head. All he could hear was the laboured sound of his breathing and the slapping of his trainers on the ground. All he could see were seemingly endless streets, one after the other, each one exactly the same as the last and the only thing he knew was that he had to run. Just run, to get away from everything.

xXx

Gilbert stared after the retreating boy in shock. "Damn he can run..." he murmured to himself absent-mindedly. He felt that he should run after him but he honestly didn't think he could because as soon as Gilbert had called after him, Matthew had broken into a sprint that could have rivalled an Olympic runner and had shot down the street like a rocket.

Gilbert was still marvelling the boys sprint when the door burst open for a second time, revealing the infuriated face of the boy's father.

"Damnit, where the hell did Alfred get to." he growled, his blue eyes scanning the street and landing on the albino. "Hey, you're Gilbert, aren't you?" he said, tapping him on the back. "Did you see where Alfred went?"

Automatically, Gilbert whipped round and glared up at the tall man. The albino's red eyes were filled with anger and he wasn't a bit frightened of the much larger man in front of him. "Last I checked," he hissed through clenched teeth, "He was back at the party, letting his brother take all the blame for something _he _did."

The man blinked stupidly. "But Alfred doesn't have a brother."

Gilbert's head snapped up and his eyes flashed in anger. "_What the hell is wrong with you?_" he yelled, causing the man to stumble backwards in shock. "That wasn't Alfred you just yelled at that was _Matthew_, you know, your _other_ son?"

For a minute the tall man simply looked blankly at the teen glaring up at him and panting heavily, as if processing the boy's words. Suddenly, his eyes lit up in realization and his hand flew to his mouth in shock. "Oh god..." he murmured to no-one in particular. "I-I'm so sorry..."

Gilbert's eyes narrowed. " Don't tell it to _me._" He snarled. " Find Matthew!"

The man nodded in agreement. "You're right." He said in a business-like tone, "I have to find him... Will you help me?"

For a moment Gilbert hesitated, not wanting to miss his party but, remembering the distraught face Matthew had when he ran out, he quickly changed his mind. "Of course." He nodded, "I'll go this way, you try to think where he might be." and with one last glare at the flustered man, Gilbert shot down the street in the direction Matthew had run.

_**A/N- '**Mein Gott= My god' Just in case you didn't know... Anyway, thankyou a **millionfold** for all the reviews you gave me on the last chapter, they made me so happy~~~ Also, after a fair bit of thought, I have decided that I probably **will** make this a romance but it probably won't happen for a while yet... I like taking things slow :3_

_I will go and work on the next chapter now, since **I actually have inspiration!** Le gasp :O _

_Please review as they bring me so much joy~ And every author gets motivated If they are given a good review, right?_


	3. Chapter 3 Pathetic

_**A/N-** -Hands each of you a gun- Feel free to shoot me. Seriously. I deserve it._

_I'm so, so, so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, times INFINITY. You guys have had the patience of saints for waiting for me for so long... If any of you are still there..._

_The main reason this chapter is so late is that it was so freaking difficult to write. It's pretty much solid angst with barely any character interaction to break it up, which I HATE writing so yeah... I got writers block, then no motivation, then one thing lead to another and... yeah..._

_The good news is, after this chapter things are going to brighten up a wee bit, there will be some more school interactions, faster updates and maybe a little bit of humor. _

_I also got a plot worked out, which is good, right?_

_...forgive me? ;w;_

_Warning: This chapter contains aaaaaangst, blood, self-harm and pushy albinos. _

Chapter 3- Pathetic 

Matthew could feel hot tears pouring down his face as he ran as fast as he could away from his house, away from people who forgot him, and away from his life. He knew that he would have to go back at some point, but for now, all he wanted was to escape, even if it was only for a few minutes.

Before long, his legs began to ache and his breath caught in his throat, but still he ran, not wanting his life to catch up with him. His feet and legs were in agony and it was difficult to see through his blurry eyes.

Somewhere along the way his glasses fell from his nose, making it even harder to see, but he didn't stop to pick them up. He couldn't stop. Not for anything.

Every time he took a breath his throat burned. And his run had become more of a continuous stumble.

It hurt. It hurt so much. To always be forgotten and ignored by the people he thought he could trust. It always hurt, but he allowed himself a mirthless smile. His abused limbs were aching, and his eyes stung from tears, but somehow... it fitted. With every pained step he took, he could kid himself that the pain inside faded away, just a little and would eventually disappear completely. Matthew knew he was fooling no-one, but still he pressed on, wishing he could run away forever. However, the wish was soon dashed, when the boy's legs gave way beneath him and he fell to the ground, sore and exhausted.

Slowly and painfully, he raised himself up on shaky arms and looked around. He knew no-one would have bothered following him from his house, and any person walking by probably wouldn't see the boy lying in a heap against the red brick wall, but just to be safe, he shakily hauled himself down a nearby alley.

Once safely out of sight, the boy curled up into a ball, and let a sob escape his mouth.

Why? Why was he so unnoticeable? What had he done to deserve this fate?

He didn't want this. He didn't want to be constantly ignored and forgotten. He just wanted to be the same as everyone else, with family and friends who cared about him instead of ignoring him.

Was that too much to ask?

Yes. Was the answer to that question.

It seemed that no matter how hard Matthew tried to be noticed, nothing changed. That was how it always had been and always would be.

Gradually Matthew uncurled and his sobs grew to nothing more than whimpers. He raised his tearstained face to the sky and shut his eyes despairingly. It was true. Nothing would **ever** change. He might be able to kid himself that things could get better but in the end, he would always be the one who was forgotten and pushed aside. Alone.

He opened his mouth in a silent scream, with his eyes screwed shut and his shoulders shaking. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair _at all... _But who ever said life was fair?

He leaned back against the stone wall, barely noticing when the back of his head met the bricks with a loud crack. A shuddering gasp escaped his mouth and his shoulder's shook, and he raised his hand to his face and allowed himself a few more tears. However, as he did this, the sleeve of his red hoodie tumbled down his arm, revealing the bloody mess beneath.

Matthew's arms were a mess. The bandaids had ultimately failed to hold in the blood from his cuts and his forearms were now caked in a layer of semi-dry blood.

Matthew knew that when he did cut himself, he cut too deep for it to be good for him. Frequently he had to replace the bandages he put there, because his wounds would rip open during the day and blood would pour out, soiling the white cloth. He didn't care. In fact, he _wanted _it to happen. When he lost blood he became dizzy and light headed, and for a couple of brief minutes, he could escape into his own world. Though his vision often blurred, and his stumbling sometimes attracted strange looks, none of it mattered. It was as if he was living in a dream.

Now, however, he couldn't slip into his dream-like state. At least, not a good dream. It was as if he was in a nightmare.

Violet eyes stared down at the crimson liquid. There wasn't _that_ much. He had seen more. Maybe, if he bled enough, he would be able to pretend that none of this was real...

For a moment, Matthew stared at the blood, before suddenly ripping off the bandaids and wincing slightly at the pain. Carelessly, he threw them onto the ground. He wouldn't be needing them now.

He stared at the cuts a moment longer, a tiny smile gracing his lips. They looked quite... pretty, in their own, weird way, but the smile quickly faded. Beauty wasn't worth anything. Not really. Slowly, barely conscious of what he was doing, Matthew raised his spare hand to his exposed flesh and began scratching at the wounds.

At first it was only light, as if scratching an itch, but as soon as the thin scab broke and the warm blood started to flow, _something_ took hold of Matthew and his scratches became more intent, clawing at the bloodied skin and ripping apart the wounds. With every scratch Matthew winced and gulped back tears, but still he continued. It was much better this way. If he took out all his anger and frustration on himself, then he wouldn't take it out on someone else.

Once, when he was younger, Matthew yelled at his brother for half an hour straight, pointing out every one of his flaws. He had been having a bad day, and Alfred had just touched on the wrong subject, and the boy didn't stop shouting until his mother had practically pulled him off his brother. That night, he had heard Alfred crying about how his brother hated him. Of course, Matthew went to comfort his brother, and explained that he didn't hate him, and ever since the two brother's had rarely argued. But from that night onwards, Matthew knew that his actions had consequences. He had to be careful to hold in his anger, or he would hurt people, people who didn't deserve to be hurt. It wasn't their fault he was so invisible, so they didn't deserve to be blamed for it. It was _his_ fault he was forgotten, It was _his _fault he was unnoticeable, and it was _his _fault that he was so _fucking pathetic._

Tears poured down his face as he realized, with a sob, that it was true. Pathetic. That was definitely the right way to describe him.

The boy paused in his self-harm, doing nothing to stop the blood pouring down his arms and put his head in his hands.

Every day, he tried to be strong but only ended up breaking. Someone else might be able to handle it, but not him. That was why he was here, after all, In the dark alley surrounded by a growing puddle of his own blood.

_Pathetic. _

xXx

Gilbert ran down the streets, his heart pounding in his chest. With every step he took the sun slipped lower and lower down the sky and the worry that he wouldn't be able to find the boy grew.

In the dark, Gilbert was useless, and he knew it. He could barely see a thing, thanks to his albinism and he knew that if night fell completely, he stood no chance of finding Matthew.

As he got into a steady pace, Gilbert's thoughts turned back to the scene before and he frowned. Matthew's father was such an _idiot_. How could he not tell his two sons apart? They barely even looked alike! And now because of him, Matthew had run off and was no-where to be found! Anything could happen to the kid at this time of night.

Cold air swirled around him as he ran and frantically, he called Matthew's name again, only to be answered by his own voice and the sound of his shoes echoing off the silent buildings.

Gilbert swore. A couple of minutes ago the sun had slipped below the horizon and he was now running in a freezing twilight. The cold didn't bother him much though, he had a relatively strong build and cold weather never really affected him, not to mention the fact he was overheating slightly from running so much. No, it was Matthew he was worried about. He looked so skinny and frail under his baggy hoodie, like a breath of wind could blow him over and he could probably feel the cold easily.

"MATTHEW" He called again, his voice cracking in worry. He had to find him soon. He just _had _to.

xXx

Matthew could feel himself slipping. His mind was growing numb and the pain slowly began to fade.

It was... peaceful... It was as if he didn't have to think. He didn't have to worry. He didn't have to reflect on his pathetic existence. It was nice.

Vaguely he was aware of tears flowing down his face and warm blood dripping down his arm, but for once, they didn't seem to matter. He had finally reached the point where he just _didn't care_. If only he could stay like this forever.

Suddenly a voice pierced the numb fog of the boy's mind and he was jerked back to reality. His wounds began to sting again and he looked around in a horror, terrified of being discovered.

After a moment of panic, Matthew calmed down as rational thought returned to him. For a moment he waited, frozen, for some kind of noise to indicate another presence. Just when he thought he was safe, the voice split the darkness and the blonde froze as he recognized his name said. The voice... it sounded angry. But not just angry, _worried_ as well. As if someone actually cared about him.

"Matthew! Goddamnit, where the hell are you?"

He recognized that voice. Why did he recognise it? It was deep, and slightly rough ... loud enough to compete with his brother, with a heavy accent. Where had he heard that before?

Matthew's eyes widened in horror as he realized just who was calling for him.

"_No. _Not him... anyone but him..." Matthew whispered to himself as he felt a new flood of tears prick his eyes.

Gilbert. He'd only been in his life a day, but already he'd caused so much trouble, and now he was so close to letting Matthew's biggest secret out in the open. _No._ He couldn't do that, it would be over. He couldn't burden people with his problems, he couldn't let them know that he did this to himself. _He just couldn't._

Matthew could hear heavy footsteps pounding down the nearby street and he felt himself tense. Quick as a flash, Matthew pulled the sleeve of his hoodie down his arm, in a desperate attempt to hide his wounds, thankful for its red colouring. The footsteps were getting louder, and Matthew shrunk into his hoodie, trying to blend into the shadows. They were getting nearer... one thump after another and Matthew felt his heart race in worry. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped and Matthew shut his eyes tight, shrinking back against the wall. Another thump echoed off the alley walls and Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. He must have moved off.

The boy opened his eyes, only to close them again with a surprised squeak as he spotted the albino standing at the entrance to the alley and squinting down into the darkness.

He hadn't gone, he had gotten closer.

'_Please don't let him have seen me, please don't let him have seen me.'_ Matthew found himself chanting over and over in his head, but he knew it was hopeless. There was no way he hadn't been seen.

"Matthew..? Is that you?" The heavily accented voice reached Matthew's ears and he winced, shrinking back into the shadows.

Gilbert's squinted into the darkness. He was sure he had heard something, and at this point he was ready to believe anything was the small blonde. There was definitely _something_ in that alley, but it was too dark for Gilbert to see anything. He cursed his poor sight, before walking forward into the darkness.

"Matthew?" he asked again and the figure tensed. Once more, the albino peered into the shadows, taking a step forward.

Matthew shivered and crawled back but Gilbert spotted his movement and his eyes lit up.

"Matthew!" He exclaimed thankfully, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around the retreating figure's shoulder's. Matthew stiffened.

"H-hello Gilbert..." He murmured, looking away and wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else in the world.

Oblivious to the other's discomfort, Gilbert carried on, more relieved to find the boy than anything else. "Kid, I've been looking everywhere for you!" He exclaimed, not noticing the blonde wince. "Where'd you go, and how did you learn to run that fast? Seriously! But seriously, the way your Brother treated you was totally unawesome and your Dad forgetting you like that? What an _idiot_! Does he do that often?"

Matthew shrunk away from the albino, hiding his bleeding arm behind his back, but his movement jerked Gilbert out of his rambling and for the first time he really _looked _at Matthew. The kids eyes were puffy and red, the bloodshot pink clashing with his lilac eyes. He looked like he'd been through hell and back.

"Hey..." Gilbert began, not quite sure of what to say. "Are you... Are you okay?"

Matthew looked up into red eyes and swallowed dryly. Here was a chance to tell someone how he felt all the time, to let someone know about his problems, but when he looked up and opened his mouth, no words came out, so instead he opted for a fake smile.

"I-I'm fine." he said, his mouth feeling strained at the corners. "Dad was probably just too angry to notice he was talking to me, not Alfred."

Gilbert frowned. That just wasn't right. Even if he _was_ too angry, that was no reason to forget one of his sons. He shook his head angrily. "Well he's a dick then."

Matthew winced. It wasn't his father's fault he forgot about him, everyone did it. "W-well not really..." he began. "I mean, I s-suppose it's p-possible that he was just having a bad d-day and there was too much on his mind to remember me..." Gilbert opened his mouth to argue but Matthew cut across him. "I mean, when I was younger he was at work a lot, so he didn't really see me g-grow up, and when he was here Alfred always took all his attention, and I stayed in my r-room, so... I-I guess it's understandable that he forgot me... It's not r-really his fault, eh."

Gilbert snorted in disbelief, but he didn't press the matter, more worried about Matthew than anything else. The boy looked in bad shape, but he was sure that if he tried to help he would be rejected. Matthew had made it clear back at his house that he didn't like him. Of course, it was only a matter of time before he gave in to the awesomeness, but until then, there was nothing he could do. May as well make sure though.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Gilbert asked, hoping that there was some way he would help, but Matthew hurriedly nodded his head and looked away.

Gilbert cocked his head to one side and stared into Matthew's eyes for a moment longer.

"Are you sure, you're sure?"

"Yes, alright! I'm fine!" Matthew snapped, his eyes flashing. Suddenly, he realized what he'd said and he covered his mouth with his hands and looked away. "S-sorry..." He mumbled, "I-I didn't mean to snap... and yeah, I'm fine... I just overreacted, that's all..." he finished with a nervous smile. The smile burned his cheeks, but he kept it up, not wanting Gilbert to suspect anything.

Gilbert grinned when Matthew snapped at him. At least he had _some_ spirit. "Well, if you're sure..." He began and Matthew quickly nodded in confirmation. "I guess I'd better get you home..."

Violet eyes widened and Internally, Matthew panicked. "N-no! It's alright, I can get home by myself!" He stuttered, standing up quickly, and wincing at the pins and needles in his legs. His vision blurred and his head spun as soon as he stood up, but he ignored it and stumbled forwards, almost crashing into Gilbert, who grinned and caught him.

"Nope!" He said cheerily, setting the boy back on his feet. "I'm taking you home whether you like it or not! I gotta make sure you actually _go_ home for starters, plus, you live on my street, so I'm going back that way anyway."

Matthew looked down sullenly. He did _not_ want to walk back with Gilbert. Not only was he as annoying as his brother, but he was unpredictable as well. It would be hard to hide the blood from him for the entire journey home. He hoped he could do it.

With a resigned sigh, Matthew allowed himself to be led from his hiding place and back to his troubles by the cocky albino.

xXx

Matthew stumbled up his front steps and looked behind him to see Gilbert still staring at him, making sure he went inside. Mustering up his best smile, Matthew grinned at him, willing him to go away. Gilbert waved at him cheerily and Matthew let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

He turned back to the door and took a deep breath, bracing himself, before he pushed open the door and stepped into the dark hallway.

Out on the street Gilbert nodded in approval, glad that the kid was safely home, before turning and walking down the road to his house. He hoped that the party was still going on, or at least there was some food left.

As he rounded the side of his house a smile spread across his face as he saw that most of the guests where still there, including his fellow members of the newly formed 'Bad Touch Trio'. Instantly, he threw himself into the heart of the party, his thoughts far away from Matthew and his problems.

xXx

Matthew climbed the stairs cautiously, on the look out for any sign of his family. He held his bloody arm firmly behind his back in case anyone should spot him, but thankfully, no-one did.

After scaling the staircase wearily, the boy wandered along the hallway, passing by his bedroom and heading straight for the small bathroom. Once there, he firmly locked the door behind him and stared into the mirror.

A broken, wretched boy stared back.

Matthew frowned and quickly looked away. He hated to see himself like this, because he knew that it was the _real_ him he was seeing. Not the stupid happy façade he tried to put on whenever anyone payed attention to him.

Quickly he diverted his his mind from this train of thought. He couldn't afford to lose anymore blood tonight... speaking of which...

Carefully, Matthew pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie, which was now more than one shade of red, and shuddered inwardly as he realized how much blood was there. He had really taken it too far tonight.

Before he could let his mind linger on the blood for too long, Matthew stripped off the rest of his clothes and threw them into the laundry basket, all except for his crimson hoodie which he left on the floor next to the shower.

He took one last look at the torn flesh on his arms before closing his eyes, as if in pain, and jumping in the shower.

The boiling water cascaded down his bare back but Matthew made no attempt to turn it down and instead enjoyed the pounding sensation of the strong water on his skull. For a while he simply stood there, with his head against the tiled wall of the shower and his eyes closed.

"If only I could stay here..." He mumbled to himself through the water, but before long the shower ran cold and he was forced to get out.

Matthew wanted nothing more than to crawl to his bedroom and climb into bed then and there, but he had a few unfinished things to wrap up.

First, he opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out some bandages, binding his wrists with the white material and fastening it with a safety pin.

Then he grabbed his hoodie from the floor and turned the shower back on. For a minute or two he rinsed the bloodied sleeve under the water, before taking it out and scrubbing it with soap. A few more cycles of rinsing and scrubbing and you could barely even see the bloodstains anymore.

Satisfied with his cleaning, Matthew dumped the hoodie in the basket and wrapped a towel around his waist. The bathroom door creaked open and Matthew poked his head around the doorframe, making sure the coast was clear. When he was satisfied that no-one would wander down the hallway and see him, the boy darted out the door and into his own room, closing the door behind him with a bang.

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief.

At last he could relax. There was no one here to uncover his secret or to make him feel bad. He was finally free, even if it was just for a little while. Carelessly, Matthew cast off the towel and pulled on a baggy shirt and boxers for sleeping in and with a sigh of relief collapsed onto his bed and instantly fell asleep.

What seemed like less than five minutes later a knocking on his bedroom door woke Matthew from his slumber and he gazed around blearily, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Hey... Bro? Can I come in?"

Hurriedly Matthew sat up and hid his bandaged arm under the covers. His brother was at the door. What was he doing coming to talk to him? Then he remembered. He had something to _apologize _for, didn't he? Matthew let out a slow, exhausted sigh before allowing his brother to enter.

"Yeah Alfred, you can come in..."

Instantly the door was flung open and the blonde blur that was Alfred F. Jones ran into the room and instantly latched on to his brother's drowsy form and began howling tearful apologies _right into his ear. _

Matthew simply gave his best smile throughout his brother's outburst, despite the fact he could practically hear his eardrums bursting. He knew this was how it always went, Alfred would do something wrong and blame him for it and then after a few stern words from their father, he would go and apologize, but for some reason Matthew always felt way better after his brother felt guilty. Despite him being such an annoyance, he really did love his brother.

It sometimes felt as if Alfred was the only one who cared about him, the only one keeping him alive.

Alfred's words were cut off rather suddenly as he was pulled into a hug by the smaller brother.

"It's alright Alfred, I forgive you..."

_**A/N- **Sorry again for the late update...Also, sorry for the abrupt ending, it's 2:50 am and I'm tired ^^;_

_Anyway, what's going on here is basically Matthew's driving himself anemic from self harm, in case you didn't pick up on that and he's passive-agressive, but instead of letting his anger out in healthy doses on others, he's hurting himself. _

_Also, scrubbing bloodied clothing with soap really does work! Just in case you ever go out on a killing spree and need to hide the bloodstains from your parents/room-mates, you can get rid of them with hot water and soap in the bathroom. (please don't ask me how I know this xD)_

_Well, that's all from me for now, now it's off to bed for me! God I'm so tired T^T_

_Review? :3_

_~Star-Tigrex_

_xxx_


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